


Car Trouble

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2018 SPNKinkBingo [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Handcuffs, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of the night. Things go awry when a handsome stranger stops to help.





	Car Trouble

The chilled Kansas night air seeps straight into your bones as you walk down the black shoulder of the old road, prompting you to tug your jacket tighter around your frame.

Why couldn’t your car break down on a  _warm_  night?

You slip your cell from your jacket pocket, thumbing the power button; still dead. Great.

You’re seriously considering turning around to bunker down in your broken heap of a car for the night when twin beams of light illuminate the unending strip of asphalt.

You break into a run, swooping your arms over your head in broad, swinging arches to get the driver’s attention. The car slows, wheels crushing gravel as it pulls over. It’s hard to tell, even with the blinding headlights, but you think the car is black. It’s long, sleek, and looks like a classic muscle car.

The window gives a soft whirring sound as it lowers and you bend down at the waist as you approach—

Holy shit. His face is dark, but there’s just enough of a glow to make out his well-proportioned features; there isn’t enough light to make out the color, but his eyes are a gorgeous shape…and his  _lips_. Holy  _shit_ , his lips. They’re so full and plush—and  _god_ —you’re in a state of distress, but you can’t help but imagine how that mouth would feel on your—

“Are you okay?” Fuck, his voice is so deep; it’s a rough baritone that you can actually  _feel_.

“Um…no, uh,” you clear your throat, and try again. “It’s my car— it broke down about half a mile back. My phone’s dead and I’m not familiar with this area…”

There’s a quick glimpse of pearly teeth when he smiles, and you feel your knees go a little weak. “Well, uh, I actually don’t have my cell on me, but there’s a service station a couple a miles that way,” he says, jerking a thumb behind him. “I could give you a ride? I mean—if you’re comfortable, of course.”

You chew at your lip as you think, “It’s past midight…isn’t it closed?”

“Yeah,” the man nods. “But I happen to know the owner. He’s still there, and he’d be more’n willin’ to help ya out.”

You press your lips together as you mull it over. You don’t know this guy, and you’re definitely hesitant to get in the car with him, but what choice do you have? It would might even be  _more_  dangerous to stay in your car; you’d be a sitting duck for any passing psycho(s).

“Okay,” you accept. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

He smiles again, “Hop in, sugar. S’my pleasure.”

*****

The atmosphere in car is light as the two of you make comfortable small talk. The man’s name is Dean and he’s a federal agent.

“So, are you working right now? I’d feel so bad if you were…”

“Oh no,” Dean says, flicking his eyes to you. They’re definitely green.  “I’m off for a few days, I just ah, I couldn’t sleep.” He smiles then, soft. “Sometimes driving these old roads relaxes me.” He breathes out a chuckle, “I know, sounds stupid—”

“No, not at all!” you reassure him with a kind smile, “I’m kinda like that too. There’s nothing like a long, night drive. It’s therapeutic.”

“Exactly.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence before you speak again, “So you’re a fed, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

He gives you a look you can’t quite place. “It can be,” he nods. “I guess, uh—I guess I’m kinda drawn to danger.”

The statement makes you uneasy, and you’ve just realized you’ve been driving for quite a while. He’d said the service station was just a couple of miles away…hadn’t he?

Just when you’re about to ask him, you notice the car slowing down. You squint out the pristine windshield as Dean veers the vehicle off the road; tires crunching over dried grass before coming to a halt in front of a dark, thick line of trees.

Your mouth goes dry as a thin wave of panic blankets over you. “Why…why are we stopped?”

Dean gears the car into park, swings a long arm to hook over the back of the bench sheet as he lazily lolls his head toward you. He’s smiling again, a smile that makes you weak in an  _entirely_ different way.

“You’re a  _very_  pretty girl,” he says, dark eyes sweeping over you.

You struggle to swallow, “Thank—thank you. I um, I think I can make it from here—”

Dean blinks at you, then turns to open his door.

You heave your own door open, bolting out of the car to sprint around its rear and toward the road.

It’s dark out here, too dark, and you’ve just rounded the trunk when Dean swiftly steps in front of you to block your path—

You scream when an arm coils your around your waist, your piercing cry abrupty extinguishing as a thick palm clamps over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he shushes chillingly, pulling you flush against his chest. He walks you back two steps and then reaches behind you to wrench the back door open. You buck and writhe in his grip, fighting with everything in you to bust out of his hold, but he’s holding you so  _tight_ , locking you inside the iron cage of his heavy arm.

He tosses you into the backseat like you weigh nothing at all, hands grabbing at your hips to flip you to your stomach. You immediately go to crawl forward, but then he sets his heavy weight on your back, not even bothering to shut the door as he works your jacket off your shoulders and down your arms.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please don’t do this!”

You hear the rustling sound as Dean tosses the heap of leather onto the front seat.

“Just relax, sugar,” the man rumbles behind you. “Don’t fight me.”

“Oh, god,” you whisper into the worn leather as Dean pulls your hands to cross at the small of your back. There’s a clinking sound and then cold metal encircles your wrists, tightening before locking in place.

And then big hands are all over your body; smoothing, pinching, kneading. He lifts your hips, forcing you to settle your weight on your knees, cheek pressed firmly against the leather seat. Fingers pull at the front waistband of your jeans as the man pops the brass button and works down the zipper.

“No!” you screech as denim tugs down over your hips to gather around your thighs. He hooks a finger around the crotch of your thin panties, rumbling out a deep groan as he exposes you.

“Fuck, honey, you’re  _dripping…_ Makes me think you wanted this, huh?”

“No!” you gasp. “Please…please let me go—ah!”

Your entire body tenses when the man boldly sinks a thick finger into your heat. “Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s gonna feel great around my cock.”

Another finger joins the first as he starts a slow, pumping rhythm. Your cunt clenches around his plunging fingers on every drive and you have to bite your lip to restrain from moaning out your unwanted arousal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief when Dean pulls his fingers from you, but then you’re whimpering out protests as he peels your panties down to join your jeans. You shiver as cool air washes over your exposed flesh, and you struggle to close your legs together, like that would help at  _all_.

And then a hot, wet tongue runs from your clit to your entrance in a firm stripe. You hear him smack his lips, moaning softly before repeating the trail.

There’s an undeniable heat building in your lower belly as the stranger feasts on you, and the thought of climaxing for him is terrifying.

The clinking sound of a belt buckle fills the car as Dean pulls away. “You ready for cock, honey?” he asks as he cracks a palm against the right globe of your ass.

“Nnngh,” you try, gritting your teeth through the sting and the tingling thrill of arousal.

You let out a strangled whimper when his cock falls against your ass; hot and heavy. You squirm when you feel him press against your slick entrance, sucking in a sharp breath when he nudges forward, slowly inching himself inside you.

Liquid heat hurtles through your veins and the burning stretch and you can feel your cunt pulsing around him.

A soft chuckle reaches your ears, “Hope you like it rough, baby.”

He slowly drags out to the apex and then you’re  _squealing_  when he suddenly  _snaps_  his hips forward—

“Oh,  _shiiiit!_ ” you keen as he quickly picks up a  _brutal_  pace, your cheek sliding against leather on every forceful drive. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mingling with the man’s breathy pants and moans.

Your eyes are closed, mouth gaping in unexpected pleasure as Dean’s pistoning cock punches visceral grunts from your throat.

“This whatcha wanted?” the man pants. “Think you knew just what you were gettin’ into when got in the car with me.” He chuckles, “Told ya I’d give you a  _ride_.”

“Oh-my-god-fucking-shit-Deannn!”

“Oh, you’re  _loud_ , baby,” Dean laughs. “Probably shoulda gagged ya, huh? Oh well, ain’t like anyone’s gonna hear ya out here anyway.”

The slanted angle of your hips allows Dean to shove in deep, the head of his cock brushing over your sweet spot on every thorough thrust.

“Please-please-please-please, Dean—”

_THWACK_

The stinging crack against your ass swiftly silences you as you pant brokenly into the seat.

“How ‘bout you shut up, huh? Shut— _shit_ , shut your fuckin’ mouth and  _take_  it.”

He pulls out after a few more thrusts, shoving you farther across the seat as he rolls to his ass, boots flat against the floorboard, back thumping against the backrest.

“C’mere,” he pants, roughly jerking you to him by the arm as he slides you over his bare thighs, hefty cock bumping against your ass.

“Get your feet on the floor,” he grunts, guiding you by the hips. You know what he wants—fuck, he’s gonna make you ride him. You heed his command, struggling to thump your feet down between his with your jeans still hugging your thighs.

You’re bent over at the waist, your ass level with his chest as you situate yourself, and then he’s easing you down over his length, fingers denting into your flesh with a firm grip.

You shiver, groaning as you sink down on him, coming to a stop when your thighs rest on top of his.

“Ride me,” he orders.

You’re seriously off balance with your hands cuffed, but you try your best to steady yourself, using your thighs to lift yourself up and down. Gravity allows for incredible depth with this position, and you swear you can feel him in your  _chest._ Your legs are nearly closed and it makes your channel tighter, making him feel even  _bigger._

It only takes a few seconds before your thighs are screaming with the burn. Dean takes over then, hands adjusting their grip around your hips as he jerks you up and down his wide shaft. Your knuckles glide up and down the fabric of his shirt with every bounce, cuffs jingling with the motion.

You let your head drop against his hard shoulder as he fucks you down on him, lips parted as the man drives you higher and higher.

Dean stills suddenly, lifting you up until just the broad head is nestled inside you-

And then,  _fuck_ , then he’s holding you still as he  _wildly_  spears into you, over-and-over-and-over. Your back bows in, mouth gaping as you scream in exquisite pleasure at the car ceiling.

“Ohmygod-ohmygod-ohmygoddd!”

Dean shifts his hold, wrapping an arm tightly around your middle as he keeps thrusting up into you, his free hand drops to your clit, rubbing hard circles around your swollen clit before flattening the understand of three fingers against the pulsing nub, strumming so  _fast_ —

“Fuck! Dean—oh my god!”

A burst of heat explodes inside you as fall over the edge; squealing, bucking and jerking in his hold when your clit becomes too sensitive.

He grants you mercy, pulling his hand back to clamp over your mouth as he thrusts exactly four more times before spurting into you with deep growl.

You feel Dean’s body go lax as he comes down, bringing both arms to loosely encircle your waist.

“Dean?” you whisper after several long seconds. “I…can you uncuff me?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry.” A hand pushes at your back, prompting you to lean forward. The cuffs jiggle against you a second, and then you feel the lock disengage before the metal leaves you completely.

Dean helps you slide off of his softening cock to thump down into the seat next to him.

“That was fucking… _amazing_ ,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, laughing softly. “But um, how ‘bout  next time we do something where you’re  _not_  walking alone by yourself in the dead of night?”

“Dude,” you chuckle, “I was walking for literally ten seconds after you dropped me off.”

“I know,” he says slowly. “But you know all the shit that’s out there.” He looks down, smiling shyly, “I worry too much, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, you do,” you agree, leaning up to peck him on his stubbled cheek. “Okay,  _you_ come up with the scenario next time.”

He squints at nothing ahead, “Burglar?” he grins.

“Cliche…but sure,” you giggle.

“Now take me home, psycho,” you quip, “I need a fucking shower.”

Dean flashes you that perfect, pearly grin.

“Yes ma’am.”


End file.
